


Blood

by quinngrey



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood As Lube, Bloodplay, Butt Plugs, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, M/M, Rape Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 18:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14338608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinngrey/pseuds/quinngrey
Summary: In which Mairon is accosted in a hallway, cut a bit, fucked, and oh so happy about it.





	Blood

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of non-con, a lot of blood, Melkor fucking Mairon senseless, etc. Enjoy. 
> 
> For @ttrtru xoxoxox

There had been no sound in the other’s approach, none of the typical physical tells either. No vibrations in the air, no looming darkness. A hand covered his mouth, a dagger pressing against his throat, and Mairon’s eyes widened in surprise, taken off his guard. Couldn’t be any of the creations, nor a prisoner, nor a Maia. The list narrowed significantly to just one. Melkor. The Vala could cloak his presence in ways others hadn’t the ability, after all. 

He could feel the press of a firm chest against his back, not barred by maile or metal of any sort that he could sense. The firm grip over his mouth guided him more than the dagger, walking him backward toward a small alcove carved into one of the walls that had been the start of a hallway but never finished. He stumbled slightly over his long robes, wincing as the dagger bit into his throat and broke the skin. Clumsy. 

Mairon considered his options, each flashing through his mind with the implications that would follow. Submit easily, let the Vala do Eru only knows what he was planning, less likely to incur any sort of serious injury, get out with his dignity shattered. No. Put up a fight, get forced into submission, bleed a bit, dignity still intact but not ideal. Fight back, shapeshift into something small or quick, get away, get found later, deal with the consequences that may be twice as bad as giving in in the first place… His brow furrowed in his indecision. 

Regardless of his options, Melkor had his own plan in mind it seemed. The Vala shoved him hard against the jagged rock of the wall, removing the dagger from the Maia’s throat so that he might pressing Mairon’s cheek to the surface. Leaning in so that his lips brushed the other’s pointed ear, hot tongue tracing the shell before nipping the lobe. “I’ve been watching you, you know… Do not think I have missed the way you flaunt yourself before me,” he leered, enjoying the way the other squirmed under his touch. “Desperate for my attention like the harlot you are…”

His hands twitched by his sides, the knife secured to his thigh at just the wrong angle to draw. Mairon made a small attempt to move his leg, bend his arm, but the Vala was faster, grabbing his arm and twisting it roughly behind his back. He couldn’t help but yelp at the jarring sensation as the shoulder popped audibly out of place, a burst of pain spreading like fire down the length of his arm. 

“Oh, you do not intend to deny me this truth, do you?” Melkor crooned, tone sickeningly saccharine given their position. He forced a knee between the Maia’s legs, spreading them with ease, even as the other struggled against the hold. “You have all but thrown yourself into my bed, craving my touch like the needy little whore you truly are. Yet now I give you this freely and you struggle.”

The Maia grit his teeth, hips canting back in a vain attempt to throw the other off balance. Bad choice. Melkor’s knee slammed into the back of Mairon’s own and effectively crippled him just enough that his leg gave out beneath him. Buckling, his head hit against the stone wall, and all too quickly the Vala was on him. His arms were pinned to the ground first, hands splayed by his head in a way that made his shoulder ache. Melkor perched himself on the dip of Mairon’s lower back, knocking the air from his lungs. “That’s more like it,” the Vala chuckled, a devious smirk on his lips. “You are a fighter, Lieutenant… Act like it.”

Breathing heavily, Mairon fought against Melkor’s grip on his wrists, hating that the other held the more advantageous position. Were he on his back this would be a more fair fight, though he supposed if it was a fair fight, Melkor would not be interested. The Vala wrenched his arms down again, securing his wrists in one large hand before wrapping a string of thin twine to bind them together, the coarse material biting into his flesh. “Damn it,” Mairon rasped, the first words from his mouth since they began, and he realized immediately his folly. Those two words were akin to defeat and the booming laugh that followed a testament to the realization.

The dagger was back in the Vala’s hand a moment later, dragging the tip down Mairon’s clothed back. He could hear the fine fabric catching on the blade, and ridiculously, his first thought was that he had only just received these robes less than a fortnight before. Truly, he wasn’t sure which was worse, the feel of the dagger slicing a shallow line down his back or the knowledge that the robes were damaged beyond repair as Melkor cut through them. Cold air hit his skin, back exposed, and he couldn’t stop himself from shivering. 

As the Vala bent forward, sweeping crimson hair to the side, his tongue swept along the nape of his lieutenant’s neck. Turning his head away, Mairon’s jaw clenched tightly in his displeasure, yet Melkor’s fingers snaked into his hair and tugged, forcing the other’s head back. Despite himself, the Maia moaned softly at the feeling. Sharp teeth caught the tip of his ear, tugging the cartilage before speaking once again. “Is that what you enjoy, slut? You like when I pull your hair?” 

Melkor’s voice was dangerously low yet so full of raw power. Arousal stirring, he found he could be grateful for being on his stomach even just in the smallest of ways. The grip slackened briefly before his hair was yanked again, and damned if he didn’t moan again. “Is it all pain, I wonder?” The Vala teased, morbid curiosity apparent as he straightened, his cock a solid and heavy against Mairon’s arse as he shifted back to sit on the Maia’s thighs. The change in position made it easier to breathe, but as the dagger pressed against his skin all breath was lost once more. 

The blade moved slowly, steadily as it barely broke the skin. Mairon’s mind went utterly blank. Pearls of blood beaded up across the laceration, darker in hue than the crimson of his hair. He hadn’t realized just how much tension he was harboring until Melkor lifted the dagger from his skin and the Maia sunk further against the ground. The grip in his hair released, his head falling forward so quickly that his cheek hit the rock before he could catch himself. 

“Again-” he faltered, mumbling just loud enough for the other to hear him. His sharp nails dug into the palms of his hands, but otherwise he stayed completely still. With a smirk, interest piqued, Melkor used the dull edge to trace the jut of his scapula leaving a red line in its wake but not breaking the skin. When his lieutenant squirmed, groaning in frustration, he beamed. 

“Again? My, my, my,” he taunted, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Making demands, are we?”

Beneath him, Mairon struggled to loosen the twine that bound his wrists, struggled to buck the Vala off of him, yet nothing seemed to work. The touch of a tongue against the open wound stung so perfectly that he hissed, pleasure and agony mingling in his senses. “Please--” Valar, he would beg if it meant this went faster, if he didn’t have to suffer this teasing torture so long. Before he knew it, the dagger cut through his skin again, deeper this time, and every nerve was alive and filled with fire. 

Melkor loved the way the blood tainted his Maia’s skin, spilling across the milky canvas of his back, staining his torn clothes as he writhed in pain. Another slice of the dagger had tears spilling from Mairon’s eyes, streaking down his face into the dirt and rock of the ground, yet his dear lieutenant seemed to stop fighting. A fourth cut, the last, bit into the flesh and the Vala set his blade down and enjoyed the way the lithe form shook. 

“That was the last, little flame,” he praised sweetly, his fingers tracing patterns in the mess of blood. “You’re doing well… Do you need to stop?”

Blinking a few times, his honeyed eyes clouded over and rimmed with tears, Mairon had to concentrate to put words together. He shook his head, instead, trying to see the other with an awkward craning of his neck. To his credit, Melkor bent forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lover’s temple. His gaze met the other’s, steady but questioning, until Mairon was finally able to focus on him. “Do you need to stop, Mairon?”

“N-no,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “Please… not yet…”

Melkor nodded in understanding, brushing one of his blood stained fingers across the other’s cheek. The moment was soft, kind, and Mairon was glad to pause even just for a moment. He was already so far gone that he had forgotten their scene entirely, so caught up in the experience of bleeding for his Master, yet the Vala kissed him once more and brought him back to the present. 

“Such a wanton little whore,” he hummed, straightening and spreading his fingers across the Maia’s narrow back, raking his nails down across the cuts so the blood flowed more heavily. Mairon’s back arched against the pain, fresh tears falling as he cried out. A sadistic grin crossed the Vala’s face at the sight, enjoying the other’s anguish. His rough, blackened hands gave no reprieve, nails digging into the lacerations. He shifted to lap the blood with his tongue, groaning as his hard cock ground against the other’s supple arse. 

“I bet you want me to fuck you like this,” Melkor asserted, his tone husky with desire. “Bloody and dirty on the hard ground until you’re begging me to come inside you… To fill your tight hole with my cock until I come…”

Mairon whined, needy and desperate, pressing his hips up as best as he could. His Master tore his robes further, grabbing the dagger once more to cut through the Maia’s flimsy leggings until his arse was exposed to the cool air. With a hard slap to the soft flesh, Mairon keened, his eyes closing tightly. 

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I- ah,” he paused, biting his lip as the Vala grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back swiftly. “I wa-want you to f-fffff-fuck me…”

“No please?”

“Please, please pleasepleaseplease,” he begged, the word falling from his tongue without hesitation. It was only when Melkor’s cock, solid and heavy, fell against the cleft of his arse that he went utterly silent. Oil had never been part of this plan, he remembered, and by the Valar, he already hurt so much from being cut that he wasn’t sure he could stand much more. 

Melkor’s hand gathered the pooling blood, coating his cock with the viscous liquid, smirking to himself. Seated as he was on the Maia’s thighs, there was no way for the other to spread his legs, making him tighter than he always was. The thought gave him such a thrill, his cock throbbing in anticipation. “My needy little fucktoy,” he cooed, spreading the other’s arse just enough to catch sight of the puckered hole. 

Without delay, he touched the head of his cock to Mairon’s entrance, enjoying the way the Maia unthinkably pushed back against him as if he couldn’t wait. “Nothing more than a cocksleeve, aren’t you?” His cock dipped in past that first ring of muscle, the head popping in with a wet noise that rang out in the alcove, and below him Mairon moaned, loud and indulgent. 

He did not wait for the other to adjust to him, forcing his blood slick length in as deep as he could at this angle. Mairon sobbed, tears falling freely now, even as he tried to fuck himself on his Master’s cock. Desperate for friction, his hips rolled and rocked before Melkor’s strong hands took hold of his hips. His whine was cut off as the Vala took him, hard and fast, sparing him nothing as though his only use was to pleasure his Master, as though he did not exist beyond that. 

The blood on his back had begun to clot and dry, clinging to near invisibly hairs and pulling each time Melkor thrust into him. Every muscle in Mairon’s body ached, unintelligible moans and broken cries escaping him. The Vala did not let up his brutal pace, grip on the thin hips tight enough to bruise. Buried deep into the Maia’s arse, after what seemed like an eternity, he came and came and came, come splotching and spilling out of the abused hole long after as he continued to fuck the Maia into the ground. 

Finally, Melkor slowed his rhythm, hypnotized with the sight of the white come seeping out around his cock, streaks of red blood tainting its purity further. With a relieved sigh, he withdrew, one hand rifling through the pouch at his hip for a moment before procuring exactly what he was looking for. The plug was small enough that Mairon could wear it, yet large enough not to fall out after being fucked. Melkor used the discarded cum, scooping it with his fingers to coat the plug before pushing it with ease into Mairon’s arse.

The maia shivered, panting heavily, tears, blood, drool, and dirt caking his beautiful face and hair. He did not move when his Master got to his feet, nor when the Vala tucked his softening cock away, nor when Melkor crouched beside his head. Lifted by his hair, Mairon barely even opened his eyes to see the other, a blissful expression on his face all the same. 

“I know you wanted me to leave you here when I was done,” Melkor began, brow furrowed slightly. “But I’m not sure I want anyone else to find you like this…”

“Mmm… is fine,” Mairon managed, his heart slowing even though he was still painfully hard. “ ‘m good…”

His Master chuckled at the response, shaking his head. “I’ll send Gothmog to make sure you’re okay if you don’t make it back to my chambers within the hour, understood?”

“Y-yes Master.”

With a final kiss to the forehead, the Vala released Mairon’s hair, letting his head fall to the ground once again. The sight of him was difficult to leave, yet Melkor spared once last glance and he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests! Find me on tumblr @quinngreyy and tell me your dirty fantasies lmao.
> 
> The art that accompanies this http://ttrtru.tumblr.com/post/173637304315/really-nsfw-art-for-quinngreyys-angbang-fic


End file.
